


Clara and Mia and an interesting meeting

by RebeccaMeyers12



Category: Fran Bow (Video Game)
Genre: Arguing, Mia just wanted her breakfast, Remor is downright charming when he wants to be, Remor swears like once, Slight sibling violence, at the end, it's pretty quick, like a lot of arguing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-01
Updated: 2017-05-01
Packaged: 2018-10-26 04:00:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10779141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RebeccaMeyers12/pseuds/RebeccaMeyers12
Summary: Where did Clara and Mia get the recipe for the potion that was meant to separate them? And did the person who gave it to them ever even have good intentions?





	Clara and Mia and an interesting meeting

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ShadowHeart405](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShadowHeart405/gifts).



“Mia?”

“What is it, Clara?” 

“Some days, you know, I try very hard to like you. But you make it so hard…”

Clara and Mia sat at their vanity, preparing for the day ahead. There was no real reason for the twins to ornament themselves so, but both of them enjoyed the distraction from the misery of their life together. Mia sighed, pinning her hair back.

“Oh, just shut up, Clara. It isn't as if this isn't all your fault. You and your stupid vanity.” 

Clara reached for her pink rosette, and began to fasten it to her hair.

“And another thing, Clara. Why does everything have to be about you? Why do you always get to wear the pink rosette? I'd very much like to wear pink once in awhile. But no, everything is about Clara Buhalmet. Everything has to be just to your liking, or you start to cry.”

Clara frowned to herself, reaching for a tube of lipstick.

“This isn't my fault,” she said quietly. “It isn't as if I wanted this. You know that, Mia. All that I want is some time to myself.”

Mia scowled darkly, eyeing her sister, who carefully applied the lipstick to her lips.

“You always play the victim, Clara. If you'd only ever listen to me, you'd be much happier. You've always been a complainer. You never listen to me, and look where it's gotten us?”

And Mia began to apply powder to her face, glancing at her sister, who stared resolutely at her own face in the golden-framed mirror.

“You're not better than me,” Clara said softly, a tone of sadness in her voice. “You still think you're prettier, and that you're more charming, and you still think you're better. I hate it when we fight, don't you know that?”

Mia glared into the mirror, tightly squeezing her brush. 

“You can pretend it's my fault, like you always do, but you know it's as much yours as it is mine.” Clara said, not looking at Mia. 

Mia slowly turned her head to look at her sister.

For a moment, Clara and Mia stared at each other, silently,

And then, Mia raised her hairbrush, and struck Clara across the face.

Clara's head snapped to the side, her eyes wide in surprise, an angry red mark already beginning to bloom on her cheek, but she said nothing, instead slowly reaching for her rouge.

“Now, just shut up Clara, so I can finish getting ready.” Mia said.

Clara said nothing.

************* 

It was always a very rare occurrence that the twins ever agreed on anything, but both Clara and Mia would always agree that they both preferred breakfast and teatime as the best parts of the day. They would sit at their beautiful table together, drinking tea, eating cakes, and chocolate. And sometimes, though they never expressed the thought to one another, both Clara and Mia both wished they had a guest to entertain, though the likelihood of that happening was very low.

It was a morning like any other morning for the twins, that day. Dull, quiet, as the fire roared steadily in the fireplace, and the tea brewed in the kitchen. Clara and Mia set their plate out, and began to dish cake onto it when-

“Mia,” Clara said softly, hand freezing over a pretty dish of blue and pink macaroons.

“If this is about earlier, don't waste your breath, Clara. Just be quiet, can't you feel that I'm starving?”

“No, Mia, please, shh.”

“Don't you dare tell me to be quiet, you-”

Clara, summoning courage from some hidden place, covered her sisters mouth with her hand.

“Mia, listen.” Clara whispered.

It was at this point in time that the twins heard the sound of heeled boots clicked on the tiled floors of the kitchen.

“Mia, did- did you lock the front door?” Clara whispered.

“you know as well as I do that we don't have a front door. They probably came in through the window.”

“Mia, Mia, what if- what if it’s him? What if it's itward?” Clara said, her voice shaking slightly,

“If it is,” Mia said, her voice trembling too, but very subtly, “We’ll kill him.”

“Mia- I'm scared-” Clara said. “The cake knife. Grab the cake knife, Mia! It's on your side.”

Mia quickly grabbed the long, silver knife that lay next to the cake.

The twins heard the heels clicking, the sound growing louder, and twins turned to the kitchen door-

And standing there, was someone they had never seen before.

It was… without a doubt, one of the oddest things they had seen. A humanoid figure, tall, and thin, clad in black, flowing, almost otherworldly looking robes, and, if that wasn't odd, the figure wore a blood stained goat-skull mask.

“Morning,” said the...thing. “So sorry to intrude on you. Do you mind if I sit?”

Mia, to her credit, was the first to react, she stood up, surprising Clara, and almost causing them both to fall, and pointed the knife at the thing.

“Who are you? What are you?” Mia demanded. 

The figure sighed, and slowly approached the twins, hands raised in a non threatening way.

“Ladies,” it said. “My sincere apologies for intruding. I am just so happy to finally meet you both.” 

“I- we will not ask you again. Who are you?” Mia said, backing away as the figure approached.

The figures head tilted to the right, slightly.

“Ah,” it said. “How rude of me. My name,” and here, the figure straightened up, slightly, “Is Remor. I am the prince of the fifth reality, son of Mother Mabuka. And you, ladies, are Clara and Mia Buhalmet. And I, am here to help you both. May I sit?” Remor said.

Clara looked at Mia, and back at Remor.

It would have been an understatement to say that neither Clara nor Mia were used to being on the receiving end of such politeness. Not from anyone they had ever known, and certainly not from each other. And Clara, who was, to be frank, slightly softer hearted than Mia, smiled.

“Mia,” she said. “He's so nice, Mia. He's so kind. Let him sit with us.”

But Mia was undeterred. “I… I know a Mabuka. I've heard that name. We know about the realities, both of us. Why would you, a prince, want to see us? What do you want with us?”

Despite the fact that neither Clara nor Mia could see Remor’s face, they both sensed him smiling, in an odd sort of way from under his mask.

“Oh, I want nothing from you. You have nothing to give, and if you did, I still wouldn't want anything from you. You see… I came here because I have something for you. Now, I can't stay here for long, so, may I sit and tell you how I can help?

Clara grinned at Mia. “Oh, Mia, please, don't be rude to him any longer. Let him sit, please?” 

Mia slowly set down the knife onto the table, and slower still, sank down into her chair.

“I won't stop him,” Mia said, avoiding Remor's gaze.

Remor smiled from underneath his mask. Perfect. This was going perfectly.

Remor pulled out a chair, and sat at the table. Clara smiled back, as Mia scowled at their plate.

“Would- would you like some tea?” Clara asked hesitantly, as Mia flashed a glare at her sister.

“Haha. No. I hate eating.” Remor said, his air of stoic formality almost unsettling.

Remor leaned forward, resting his hands on the table. “I know you both.”

“Excuse me?” Mia said. 

“I know the both of you very well. Perhaps better than you'd think. You both are very young, far too young to have to live in such misery as this, and you have been together for far too long, yet you still hate each other.

“I'll admit, I've always thought family should get along. ...then again… I'd be a hypocrite, wouldn't I? Of course, that's not important.”

Remor gazed at Clara, noting the fresh bruise on her cheek, hastily covered by rouge, and he reached out, and touched it. As he held Clara's cheek, his thumb brushed over the bruise, and it faded away.

Remor withdrew his hand, and smiled.

“But despite all of this, despite all of your troubles, I have seen your problems. I have seen your sadness, your anger, and I am here to help. I expect nothing from you, nothing at all. But I would like very much to help you both.”

“But how?” Mia said, suddenly, looking up at Remor, her gaze disbelieving and angry. “How on earth could you help us? Are you planning to cut us in half?” 

Remor laughed. It was not a pleasant laugh, but an unsettling one, a calm, almost mechanically practiced laugh. It sent a child down Clara and Mia’s spine to hear it.

“No, dearest Mia. I won't do that. You're a smart girl. Surely you know that that would only end in agony, possibly death. What I do have… is this.”

And Remor reached a hand under his mask, and withdrew from it a folded sheet of parchment, and he slid it across the table.

Clara reached for it, and opened it. Together, Clara and Mia read the contents, before looking up.

“A… potion?” Mia said, genuine surprise leaking into her voice. “We've… well, we've done things like this before… but… never to this magnitude…”

“Oh Mia, you're being ridiculous. It isn't too complicated… perhaps he could help us with it?” Clara said, smiling at Remor.

“There, I'm afraid, I cannot. This potion has to be done by someone who isn't… like me… and it cannot be done by you, either. But rest assured, I'll see to it that you get the help you need. Of course… it won't fully work unless the both of you agree to it. So Mia… what do you say? And you, Clara?”

Clara turned to look at Mia, and Mia turned to look at Clara, and they both, for the first time in a very long time, they looked into each other's eyes with no hatred. And they both realized, that they both completely understood what the other was thinking.

Dresses, dresses I can wear all by myself, whatever I'd like to wear, whenever, and all the time to read, or write, anytime I feel like it. Mia thought.

Time to myself, Clara thought. And as far away from Mia as I can get. Never to be hit again, or yelled at. For once. There'll be quiet. For once, it'll only be me. 

And they both looked back at Remor, and they both smiled.

“Yes, we agree.” The twins said.

**************

Remor was alone, in the decrepit palace in his grove, staring out the window. He gazed out at some of the kamalas that loitered below, outside, talking with one another, or play fighting with each other. Suddenly, a kamalas approached Remor, leaping onto his shoulder, and whispering into his ear.

“What?” Remor said. The kamala repeated itself.

“You're sure? Absolutely certain?” The kamala nodded.

“Dead. The both of them. Who did it?”

The kamala whispered the name into Remor's ear, and a Remor scowled, his brow lowering, his fists curling.

“Damnit.” Remor spat, before forcing himself to relax.

“Well… scrap that little project, then.”

End.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! So I really enjoyed writing my previous Fran Bow fic, so I decided to write more. This obviously is all headcanoned by me, and knowing me, I probably missed some detail about the actual canon that will make me look dumb. So please pardon that, and enjoy this anyway. Thanks for reading, and please, give me requests/suggestions about what else I could write. Thanks!


End file.
